The shadow whisper
It’s whispers.
Can you hear them?
I don’t want to,
but they force me to.
Sitting in an empty room,
with no one—
just a cigarette in my hand.
Every time it touches my lips,
it kills me
and makes me want to avoid it—
I know that cigarette is not good for me,
but I like doing something
I know is going to kill me.
But he likes that I do that—
killing myself, he whispered to me,
saying, “Can we switch places?”
I said, “How can I get into the wall?
You are a shadow.”
But how…
I was talking to a shadow
in a room
completely empty and dark.
The whispers say to me:
“Look at me.
Look at the darkness,
and feel both sides of it
that you don’t think exist.”
I thought something was wrong.
I kept hearing him
until he said:
“Come closer…
to someone else in the room,
because my name isn’t dead.”
When I turned on the light,
I saw nothing
but my shadow dancing in front of me,
my body frozen, watching.
And when I looked back,
something was coming out of the wall
with a cigarette,
saying to me:
“I like doing something
I know is going to kill me."
Copyright © The bloody Pen | Year Posted 2025
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment